


The Platonic Series

by Rhys (popslash_archivist)



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9205244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popslash_archivist/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Examining friendship, platonically.





	1. Platonic

The mix of thunder and rain put JC in a very calm spot. Sitting in the centre of his living room, chewing the end of his pen and wearing only a faded grey pair of sweats, the entire beat of his life seemed to be working towards something great. 

Until the pen exploded, staining his favourite pair of ragged pants, and the doorbell rang, which seemed to be a signal for the power to go out. JC didn't move – barely bothered to breathe – not sure whether to cry or answer the door. 

By the fourteenth ring, JC's wiped his eyes dry and stumbled to the door, peering through the peephole before sliding each lock back, one by one by one. Chris, drenched to the bone and wearing a now-transparent white shirt, grinned the minute the door swung over, but JC just stood there, leaning on the door with a flashlight in one hand. 

"What do you want?" He asked, fingers at his mouth and trying to cover the fact his teeth were blue. Chris stopped smiling and held out a paper bag, which JC peered into before stepping back, letting Chris into the house. The thing about Chris was, that ever since Dani dumped him, he seemed to have this thing about being alone. What JC didn't understand, however, was why Chris was at *his* door and not the first three choices. 

"Um," Chris said, sliding off his shoes, and JC watched every move warily, the flashlight under his chin and lighting up his whole face, "your teeth are blue, man." 

"I know that," JC said quietly, rubbing at his mouth. His hands were covered in ink, which was just making it worse, and Chris grabbed him by the wrist, tugging him down the hall into the bathroom and putting the bag on the counter. "I can brush my own teeth," JC said, testily. 

"You're a big boy, aren't you?" Chris said, smiling again, and pushed JC down on the toilet seat, setting the flashlight on the tank. "I brought pitas, man. I thought you might be hungry. I said, ‘dude, this is song writing weather. JC's a starving artist. Feed him.' So here I am." 

"And Joey's dealing with baby issues, Lance's in Mississippi and Justin just isn't around, is he?" JC asked, his voice strangely even, because it wasn't like he didn't know that Chris would probably go to everyone first – he and Chris just didn't have much in common anymore. "What are you doing here?" 

Chris squeezed a line of toothpaste onto the brush and handed it to JC, one hand on his hip. From this angle, Chris looked huge. "I don't know what Justin's doing – probably jerking off with Britney on the phone. Lance is actually in Toronto with Joey, filming. You know that. Now, stop being such a dick and accept I came to hang out." 

JC chewed on the toothbrush quietly, hunched over and feeling small. "Why?" 

"Because you've seemed down for awhile, Jayce, and you're the type to slit your wrists in the tub because all you artistic souls seem to think shit like that is the way to leave your mark. And you never eat when you're writing. Well, nothing but ink, obviously." Chris was dabbing JC with the towel, almost daintily. "Fuck, Chasez, what did you do? Bathe in it?" 

"Pen exploded," JC mumbled, standing up and spitting in the sink as Chris set to work on JC's hands, squirting blobs of soap onto the stained flesh. "You know, I am perfectly capable of cleaning myself up." 

"It's the raging mother in me," Chris said, grinning. "Accept it, man." 

"I bet you were a filthy kid," JC replied, smiling to himself, and Chris nodded quietly, fingernails gently scraping over JC's skin, taking the blue away. JC watched, mesmerised by the pattern of hair created by Chris's short fingers. It tickled. "What type of pitas?" 

"Club," Chris said, "your favourite." 

Which was actually nice gesture, JC conceded slowly, and it also proved Chris was probably telling the truth, so JC didn't feel like fourth best, which was really quite nice. JC snuffed at his hair, aware it was everywhere and teasing his face, and Chris smiled again, using a soapy hand to brush away the errant strands. 

"So what's up, Jayce?" 

JC looked up, "what do you mean?" 

Chris pressed a sloppy finger into the muscle of JC's left arm. "What's up, man? Why're you walking around half dead?" 

"Oh," JC said, "that." JC crinkled his nose again, shaking away his stupid hair, and Chris, again, brushed it back, keeping his palm against JC's forehead for a long time. "Well. I guess. Probably because," JC suddenly wanted Chris to let go of him, "Bobbie dumped me. You know?" 

"Shit," Chris said, with feeling, "shit, man. I'm sorry." 

JC shrugged. "It's all right. I'm not completely shattered – just slightly fractured," JC said, laughing suddenly, but he stopped because it wasn't really funny. "I didn't want to say anything because well. You." 

"Because of me and Dani?" 

"I knew it was coming," JC said quickly, "and you really didn't." 

Chris rinsed off JC's hands as JC watched quietly, noting they were only slightly blue now, and Chris dried his fingers carefully with a fluffy towel, pink to match the motif. The Girl Bathroom. JC really liked themes – found them inspirational when writing – and this theme was supposed to help him communicate with his Inner Woman and write deep songs about pain. Now, JC thought, staring at the towel, it just seemed kind of dumb. 

"Let's eat," Chris said, sounding tired, and JC nodded, following him out of the bathroom. Most of him wanted to say, ‘hey, Chris, I appreciate the thought, but I want to write songs about pulling off my own ears and stuffing them in my eyes,' but the louder, albeit smaller, part was hungry and tired of wallowing. "No mayo, even." 

"My hero," JC replied, unwrapping his pita and eating slowly. He wasn't really hungry, but if he didn't eat now, he probably wouldn't eat for a couple days, and he was already too skinny. "You really came over to see me?" 

"Yep," Chris said between breaths, swallowing his sandwich, "we don't hang around, one on one, like, ever anymore. Though we needed it, you know?" 

JC nodded, thinking it made sense because they had grown apart. Chris was usually so hyper and JC really enjoyed a total lack of movement, so he lived on his own, and Chris attached himself to everyone else and slept on their couches. 

"I like this," Chris said suddenly, sinking his fingers into JC's hair. JC pulled back, but Chris was already tangled in it, fingers dancing over his scalp. "No, I'm serious. Everyone else might be razzing you, but I think it's hot." 

"Um," JC mumbled, exposed, "thanks." 

"Platonically hot," Chris said, pulling his fingers back, burned. "Like buddies. Justin used to have hot hair, you know? And Joey, and well, Lance is looking better by the day," Chris finished lamely. "You know?" 

JC nodded and collected the garbage, wishing the power was back on and that Chris wasn't half-hidden by the shadows, looking so sinister. "You want to crash here tonight?" JC asked, staring at the fridge. "Platonically." 

"Sure," Chris said, "I like your couch. You know," Chris added slowly, licking his lips clean of food, "you can go back to writing if you want. I'll do something else, like clean your kitchen for you. In the dark. Rock on." 

"Um," JC scratched his neck, "I guess. Okay." 

"So go, be writerly and make me millions," Chris said, shooing JC out of the kitchen, and JC wanted to go back and say no, please don't wreck my meticulously organised utensils, but he didn't really care about that – he just really didn't want to be alone anymore. 

"Um," JC said, hanging out in the doorway, and Chris looked up, on his knees and searching for Mr. Clean. "Bobbie," JC said, pulling at his pants, "dumped me ‘cause she thinks I'm gay. Or something. And the Mr. Clean is under the sink. Um. Bye." 

JC ran and sat on his couch, curling his legs to his chest and trying to write in the dark, using his emergency pen, which he didn't like at all and didn't fit his fingers like the other one. The words were the haunting kind, lyrics that wouldn't make them millions and would probably drive a couple screaming girls to early graves. 

The living room was done in a Country Western style, to humble him and make him more like Lance, but right now, it just seemed quiet and off, like he didn't have a chance in hell at ever being Lance-like. At least the kitchen was Ikea, Swedish with sharp angles and harsh contrasts, very Art Deco and very chique, and it agitated him to see the silver fridge next to the black counter, an angry kitchen. 

JC fell asleep on the couch, his pen against his cheek, and he woke to Chris gently shaking him, saying, "hey, man, get up. You have lines all over your face. Get up," Chris was tugging at his arms, and JC shook his head, "fuck, Jayce, come on. Don't pretend you didn't say that shit to me, back there, about Bobbie." 

"Just go home, Chris," JC finally said, tucking his face against his shoulder and holding a palm to cover the rest of the exposed skin, so ugly right now. "I just. Just go," JC repeated, "just. Don't. Leave," JC said slowly, tiny, "don't leave." 

"Jayce," Chris said feebly and barely moved when JC threw himself on the smaller man, all lankly limbs and grasping like a monkey, quiet. Chris was frozen, ice, before he warmed and held JC tightly, hugging like Joey hugged, with all his might. 

"Sleep with me," JC murmured into Chris's shoulder, his jaw moving over fabric, and Chris made a strange, surprised noise, like he really hadn't known. "Just tonight," JC said, whispering, "platonically. Chris, please. Please." 

"What makes you think – " 

"I saw you. With that guy in Germany, Chris. That night? In Berlin?" JC bit his lip, wishing they would leave the Lance-room and go some place less wholesome and clean, like the basement, which had black leather couches and silver beads over the doors, a porn room for dirty thoughts. "I saw you. Please. Sleep with me." 

"JC," Chris said, his hand on JC's chest, too close to saying no, so JC leaned over, lips parted slightly and pressed them to that protesting mouth, like a friend at first and then like a lover, waiting until Chris opened and let JC trace his teeth. 

JC could be sexual, could be a cat in heat, but not in the Country Western room. Humming under his breath, he leaned back and whispered, once more, "please." 

Slowly, Chris nodded, watching as JC stood up, slim and sensual, and JC bit his lip again, waiting for Chris to push to his feet, short and stocky but pretty sexy, JC thought, tracing a finger from Chris's ear to his shoulders, pretty hot. 

"My room," JC said, taking Chris by the hand and leading him through the halls, pausing once at the cellar and saying, no, it's got to be more than porn. JC's bedroom was themeless, just a bunch of him against a dark blue background, things from when he was young and things from the world to remind him of where he'd been. He'd never been here with Chris before. 

"I don't want to fuck up the group," Chris said suddenly, serious and elfin, always so harsh looking when he didn't smile, and JC frowned, thinking it probably wouldn't but not entirely sure. "Jayce, promise me. Whatever happens, we don't fuck up the group." 

"Promise," JC said, his arms crossed over his belly, a little bit shy, before he stepped forward, his feet bare against the plush, plain carpet. Chris lifted his arms as JC's fingers gripped his shirt, pulling it up the pale skin and revealing an unsculpted – but wonderfully human – chest. 

Touching a tentative hand to those dark nipples, JC fingered them gently, pulling them to hardness as Chris shivered, tipping his head. JC leaned forward and brushed that scruffy neck with his lips, kissing the flesh as his fingers touched Chris's chest. 

Chris was strangely soft, much softer than JC thought another guy would feel under his fingers. A couple guys – just as few – had sucked his dick, but he'd only ever touched their hair, and it'd always been greasy, slick between his fingers. This just didn't compare at all. 

Chris moved suddenly, and JC looked up, swallowing the kiss given to him, his hands at the top of Chris's jeans, wanting them *gone*. Chris laughed, in the middle of the kiss, and it was incredible, JC thought, such a Chris thing to do. The sensation on his lips was like a hum, gentle and sexual. 

"Fuck," JC whispered, pulling at the zipper, and Chris batted his hands away, freeing himself before leaning back into the kiss, letting JC slide his hands into Chris's jeans, over his ass and squeezing firmly. "Nice." 

"Some poet," Chris murmured. "Nice, my ass." 

"Right," JC replied, mouth wide and hot against Chris, his fingers deft and strong and pulling Chris to him, JC's thigh slipping between Chris's legs. Hard contact, and JC almost pulled away, afraid, but Chris kept his fingers securely in JC's hair, holding him. 

"Just relax," Chris murmured, threading JC's wild hair in his hands, licking from the dip in JC's neck up to the peak of his chin. JC nodded and fell back into the kiss, kissing deeply and fully, his hips grinding against Chris, strangely wanton. 

"Back," JC whispered, urging Chris onto the bed, and Chris sat, his dark eyes wide and exotic, almost black. JC kneeled, tugging the jeans off Chris's hips, and staring first at his knees, moving slowly up his thighs then to his cock, mostly hidden by the dark but the shine of the moon illuminated it just enough. 

Uncut, JC noticed, inching closer to stare, and darkly coloured, dangerous in its arousal. Thicker than his, and maybe a bit shorter, though not really, but fiercely male, weeping already like JC was something worth crying over. 

One lick, which drew a deep gasp from the usually high-pitched Chris, and JC decided it wasn't as ominous as it first appeared, just a dick like his, no need to be alarmed. Because he could do this. Of course he could. He was JC Chasez. He could do anything he wanted. Hadn't Bobbie said that to him in between her tears of frustration? 

Tentatively, JC licked again, from root to tip, sucking with he came to the head, and Chris gasped again, a sound firm in his chest. Hands were in JC's hair, stroking and petting, and holding him, not pushing him, for which JC was grateful. It almost made it seem like they were lovers and not just exploring the unknown. 

"Whoa," Chris said, "hey." 

Which JC pretty much took to mean that he was doing all right and that he should stop before he lost the chance to do anything more. Chris was almost thirty, and well. Chris was almost thirty. And naked, on JC's bed, about to come. 

"C'mere," Chris said, tugging at JC's arms, and JC slid onto the bed, feeling like an animal. When Chris ran his hand over the arc of JC's back, he felt even more like something wild, barely contained. When Chris moved onto him, JC stilled and waited, the indent of Chris's whole body seared in his skin. 

So Chris touched JC, gently at first and then more in-control, more Chris-like. Sex with Bobbie had been all right, fun at times, hot at others, but JC couldn't remember ever remember these strange little noises escaping his lips as Chris licked him from the slope of his ass up to the nape of his neck, sucking and nipping while strong hands raced up and down JC's sides. 

"Fuck me," JC whimpered, "just. Fuck me." 

"Jayce," Chris said, fingering JC's bony hips, his mouth on JC's left shoulder blade. 

"Just. Do it, all right?" JC stared at the pillow, propped up by bent arms, afraid to look at Chris. "In the bathroom, top shelf. All right? Just do it." The bed buckled as Chris's weight vanished, and JC looked back over his shoulder, waiting. "Chris?" 

"Yeah?" He said, appearing in the doorway, and his hair was standing in spikes, almost as wild as JC's but dark like ebony. "Yeah, man?" 

"I'm okay," JC said, like it needed stating. 

"I know." Chris walked over to the bed and sat down beside JC, leaning over and kissing him deeply, one damp hand on JC's cheek. "Turn over," Chris said, his palm curved to the swell of JC's ass, and JC did as asked, watching Chris with wide eyes as he settled onto his back, raw. "I want to see you." 

JC nodded and exhaled sharply when Chris sat between his legs, lightly dragging his nails from the bumps of JC's ankles to the ridge of his hips. JC shivered. Chris grinned and laid one palm on JC's belly, the other applying cold gel to the dark recesses of his body. When JC tightened, Chris rubbed his stomach, and JC stared at the ceiling, trying to relax, until Chris tapped his chest. 

"Look at me, Jayce." 

JC nodded and watched the dark eyes watching him, and he barely flinched when a finger slid into his body. It stung, just a bit, but JC had a guy finger him once during a blowjob without lube. This pain was nothing in comparison. 

And the hurt didn't last long, was practically gone by the time the second finger was thrusting deeply, and JC was squirming, which meant it felt wonderful. Chris hooked JC's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him, to distract him, as Chris slid, slowly, into JC's waiting body. 

"Shit," Chris whispered, kissing frantically, "shit." 

JC only nodded, clinging to Chris's chest and kissing furiously as the older man thrust, long and deep, a complete body rhythm. Bent nearly in half, JC was singing in his head, thinking if he knew sex with Chris would be this incredible, he probably would have had a crisis sooner. 

Despite the fact Chris was almost thirty, they fucked for another hour, and Chris even had JC giggling like a girl a couple times, naked bodies twisting like snakes on the bed. When it was all over, with Chris coming twice and JC only once but hard enough to blind him for a couple seconds, they lay in the dark, covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. 

"Chris?" JC murmured, tightly wrapped in Chris's arms as Chris mouthed his hair, pulling at it until JC was glad it was long and didn't mind so more that everyone razzed him about it because Chris *liked* it, thought it was hot. "Chris?" 

"Yeah, man?" Chris replied. 

JC turned in the circle of arms, legs tangling with Chris's legs, and JC was serious when he whispered, "I think Bobbie was right." 


	2. Platonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris finds flaws in logic.

The mix of thunder and rain put JC in a very calm spot. Sitting in the centre of his living room, chewing the end of his pen and wearing only a faded grey pair of sweats, the entire beat of his life seemed to be working towards something great. 

Until the pen exploded, staining his favourite pair of ragged pants, and the doorbell rang, which seemed to be a signal for the power to go out. JC didn't move – barely bothered to breathe – not sure whether to cry or answer the door. 

By the fourteenth ring, JC's wiped his eyes dry and stumbled to the door, peering through the peephole before sliding each lock back, one by one by one. Chris, drenched to the bone and wearing a now-transparent white shirt, grinned the minute the door swung over, but JC just stood there, leaning on the door with a flashlight in one hand. 

"What do you want?" He asked, fingers at his mouth and trying to cover the fact his teeth were blue. Chris stopped smiling and held out a paper bag, which JC peered into before stepping back, letting Chris into the house. The thing about Chris was, that ever since Dani dumped him, he seemed to have this thing about being alone. What JC didn't understand, however, was why Chris was at *his* door and not the first three choices. 

"Um," Chris said, sliding off his shoes, and JC watched every move warily, the flashlight under his chin and lighting up his whole face, "your teeth are blue, man." 

"I know that," JC said quietly, rubbing at his mouth. His hands were covered in ink, which was just making it worse, and Chris grabbed him by the wrist, tugging him down the hall into the bathroom and putting the bag on the counter. "I can brush my own teeth," JC said, testily. 

"You're a big boy, aren't you?" Chris said, smiling again, and pushed JC down on the toilet seat, setting the flashlight on the tank. "I brought pitas, man. I thought you might be hungry. I said, ‘dude, this is song writing weather. JC's a starving artist. Feed him.' So here I am." 

"And Joey's dealing with baby issues, Lance's in Mississippi and Justin just isn't around, is he?" JC asked, his voice strangely even, because it wasn't like he didn't know that Chris would probably go to everyone first – he and Chris just didn't have much in common anymore. "What are you doing here?" 

Chris squeezed a line of toothpaste onto the brush and handed it to JC, one hand on his hip. From this angle, Chris looked huge. "I don't know what Justin's doing – probably jerking off with Britney on the phone. Lance is actually in Toronto with Joey, filming. You know that. Now, stop being such a dick and accept I came to hang out." 

JC chewed on the toothbrush quietly, hunched over and feeling small. "Why?" 

"Because you've seemed down for awhile, Jayce, and you're the type to slit your wrists in the tub because all you artistic souls seem to think shit like that is the way to leave your mark. And you never eat when you're writing. Well, nothing but ink, obviously." Chris was dabbing JC with the towel, almost daintily. "Fuck, Chasez, what did you do? Bathe in it?" 

"Pen exploded," JC mumbled, standing up and spitting in the sink as Chris set to work on JC's hands, squirting blobs of soap onto the stained flesh. "You know, I am perfectly capable of cleaning myself up." 

"It's the raging mother in me," Chris said, grinning. "Accept it, man." 

"I bet you were a filthy kid," JC replied, smiling to himself, and Chris nodded quietly, fingernails gently scraping over JC's skin, taking the blue away. JC watched, mesmerised by the pattern of hair created by Chris's short fingers. It tickled. "What type of pitas?" 

"Club," Chris said, "your favourite." 

Which was actually nice gesture, JC conceded slowly, and it also proved Chris was probably telling the truth, so JC didn't feel like fourth best, which was really quite nice. JC snuffed at his hair, aware it was everywhere and teasing his face, and Chris smiled again, using a soapy hand to brush away the errant strands. 

"So what's up, Jayce?" 

JC looked up, "what do you mean?" 

Chris pressed a sloppy finger into the muscle of JC's left arm. "What's up, man? Why're you walking around half dead?" 

"Oh," JC said, "that." JC crinkled his nose again, shaking away his stupid hair, and Chris, again, brushed it back, keeping his palm against JC's forehead for a long time. "Well. I guess. Probably because," JC suddenly wanted Chris to let go of him, "Bobbie dumped me. You know?" 

"Shit," Chris said, with feeling, "shit, man. I'm sorry." 

JC shrugged. "It's all right. I'm not completely shattered – just slightly fractured," JC said, laughing suddenly, but he stopped because it wasn't really funny. "I didn't want to say anything because well. You." 

"Because of me and Dani?" 

"I knew it was coming," JC said quickly, "and you really didn't." 

Chris rinsed off JC's hands as JC watched quietly, noting they were only slightly blue now, and Chris dried his fingers carefully with a fluffy towel, pink to match the motif. The Girl Bathroom. JC really liked themes – found them inspirational when writing – and this theme was supposed to help him communicate with his Inner Woman and write deep songs about pain. Now, JC thought, staring at the towel, it just seemed kind of dumb. 

"Let's eat," Chris said, sounding tired, and JC nodded, following him out of the bathroom. Most of him wanted to say, ‘hey, Chris, I appreciate the thought, but I want to write songs about pulling off my own ears and stuffing them in my eyes,' but the louder, albeit smaller, part was hungry and tired of wallowing. "No mayo, even." 

"My hero," JC replied, unwrapping his pita and eating slowly. He wasn't really hungry, but if he didn't eat now, he probably wouldn't eat for a couple days, and he was already too skinny. "You really came over to see me?" 

"Yep," Chris said between breaths, swallowing his sandwich, "we don't hang around, one on one, like, ever anymore. Though we needed it, you know?" 

JC nodded, thinking it made sense because they had grown apart. Chris was usually so hyper and JC really enjoyed a total lack of movement, so he lived on his own, and Chris attached himself to everyone else and slept on their couches. 

"I like this," Chris said suddenly, sinking his fingers into JC's hair. JC pulled back, but Chris was already tangled in it, fingers dancing over his scalp. "No, I'm serious. Everyone else might be razzing you, but I think it's hot." 

"Um," JC mumbled, exposed, "thanks." 

"Platonically hot," Chris said, pulling his fingers back, burned. "Like buddies. Justin used to have hot hair, you know? And Joey, and well, Lance is looking better by the day," Chris finished lamely. "You know?" 

JC nodded and collected the garbage, wishing the power was back on and that Chris wasn't half-hidden by the shadows, looking so sinister. "You want to crash here tonight?" JC asked, staring at the fridge. "Platonically." 

"Sure," Chris said, "I like your couch. You know," Chris added slowly, licking his lips clean of food, "you can go back to writing if you want. I'll do something else, like clean your kitchen for you. In the dark. Rock on." 

"Um," JC scratched his neck, "I guess. Okay." 

"So go, be writerly and make me millions," Chris said, shooing JC out of the kitchen, and JC wanted to go back and say no, please don't wreck my meticulously organised utensils, but he didn't really care about that – he just really didn't want to be alone anymore. 

"Um," JC said, hanging out in the doorway, and Chris looked up, on his knees and searching for Mr. Clean. "Bobbie," JC said, pulling at his pants, "dumped me ‘cause she thinks I'm gay. Or something. And the Mr. Clean is under the sink. Um. Bye." 

JC ran and sat on his couch, curling his legs to his chest and trying to write in the dark, using his emergency pen, which he didn't like at all and didn't fit his fingers like the other one. The words were the haunting kind, lyrics that wouldn't make them millions and would probably drive a couple screaming girls to early graves. 

The living room was done in a Country Western style, to humble him and make him more like Lance, but right now, it just seemed quiet and off, like he didn't have a chance in hell at ever being Lance-like. At least the kitchen was Ikea, Swedish with sharp angles and harsh contrasts, very Art Deco and very chique, and it agitated him to see the silver fridge next to the black counter, an angry kitchen. 

JC fell asleep on the couch, his pen against his cheek, and he woke to Chris gently shaking him, saying, "hey, man, get up. You have lines all over your face. Get up," Chris was tugging at his arms, and JC shook his head, "fuck, Jayce, come on. Don't pretend you didn't say that shit to me, back there, about Bobbie." 

"Just go home, Chris," JC finally said, tucking his face against his shoulder and holding a palm to cover the rest of the exposed skin, so ugly right now. "I just. Just go," JC repeated, "just. Don't. Leave," JC said slowly, tiny, "don't leave." 

"Jayce," Chris said feebly and barely moved when JC threw himself on the smaller man, all lankly limbs and grasping like a monkey, quiet. Chris was frozen, ice, before he warmed and held JC tightly, hugging like Joey hugged, with all his might. 

"Sleep with me," JC murmured into Chris's shoulder, his jaw moving over fabric, and Chris made a strange, surprised noise, like he really hadn't known. "Just tonight," JC said, whispering, "platonically. Chris, please. Please." 

"What makes you think – " 

"I saw you. With that guy in Germany, Chris. That night? In Berlin?" JC bit his lip, wishing they would leave the Lance-room and go some place less wholesome and clean, like the basement, which had black leather couches and silver beads over the doors, a porn room for dirty thoughts. "I saw you. Please. Sleep with me." 

"JC," Chris said, his hand on JC's chest, too close to saying no, so JC leaned over, lips parted slightly and pressed them to that protesting mouth, like a friend at first and then like a lover, waiting until Chris opened and let JC trace his teeth. 

JC could be sexual, could be a cat in heat, but not in the Country Western room. Humming under his breath, he leaned back and whispered, once more, "please." 

Slowly, Chris nodded, watching as JC stood up, slim and sensual, and JC bit his lip again, waiting for Chris to push to his feet, short and stocky but pretty sexy, JC thought, tracing a finger from Chris's ear to his shoulders, pretty hot. 

"My room," JC said, taking Chris by the hand and leading him through the halls, pausing once at the cellar and saying, no, it's got to be more than porn. JC's bedroom was themeless, just a bunch of him against a dark blue background, things from when he was young and things from the world to remind him of where he'd been. He'd never been here with Chris before. 

"I don't want to fuck up the group," Chris said suddenly, serious and elfin, always so harsh looking when he didn't smile, and JC frowned, thinking it probably wouldn't but not entirely sure. "Jayce, promise me. Whatever happens, we don't fuck up the group." 

"Promise," JC said, his arms crossed over his belly, a little bit shy, before he stepped forward, his feet bare against the plush, plain carpet. Chris lifted his arms as JC's fingers gripped his shirt, pulling it up the pale skin and revealing an unsculpted – but wonderfully human – chest. 

Touching a tentative hand to those dark nipples, JC fingered them gently, pulling them to hardness as Chris shivered, tipping his head. JC leaned forward and brushed that scruffy neck with his lips, kissing the flesh as his fingers touched Chris's chest. 

Chris was strangely soft, much softer than JC thought another guy would feel under his fingers. A couple guys – just as few – had sucked his dick, but he'd only ever touched their hair, and it'd always been greasy, slick between his fingers. This just didn't compare at all. 

Chris moved suddenly, and JC looked up, swallowing the kiss given to him, his hands at the top of Chris's jeans, wanting them *gone*. Chris laughed, in the middle of the kiss, and it was incredible, JC thought, such a Chris thing to do. The sensation on his lips was like a hum, gentle and sexual. 

"Fuck," JC whispered, pulling at the zipper, and Chris batted his hands away, freeing himself before leaning back into the kiss, letting JC slide his hands into Chris's jeans, over his ass and squeezing firmly. "Nice." 

"Some poet," Chris murmured. "Nice, my ass." 

"Right," JC replied, mouth wide and hot against Chris, his fingers deft and strong and pulling Chris to him, JC's thigh slipping between Chris's legs. Hard contact, and JC almost pulled away, afraid, but Chris kept his fingers securely in JC's hair, holding him. 

"Just relax," Chris murmured, threading JC's wild hair in his hands, licking from the dip in JC's neck up to the peak of his chin. JC nodded and fell back into the kiss, kissing deeply and fully, his hips grinding against Chris, strangely wanton. 

"Back," JC whispered, urging Chris onto the bed, and Chris sat, his dark eyes wide and exotic, almost black. JC kneeled, tugging the jeans off Chris's hips, and staring first at his knees, moving slowly up his thighs then to his cock, mostly hidden by the dark but the shine of the moon illuminated it just enough. 

Uncut, JC noticed, inching closer to stare, and darkly coloured, dangerous in its arousal. Thicker than his, and maybe a bit shorter, though not really, but fiercely male, weeping already like JC was something worth crying over. 

One lick, which drew a deep gasp from the usually high-pitched Chris, and JC decided it wasn't as ominous as it first appeared, just a dick like his, no need to be alarmed. Because he could do this. Of course he could. He was JC Chasez. He could do anything he wanted. Hadn't Bobbie said that to him in between her tears of frustration? 

Tentatively, JC licked again, from root to tip, sucking with he came to the head, and Chris gasped again, a sound firm in his chest. Hands were in JC's hair, stroking and petting, and holding him, not pushing him, for which JC was grateful. It almost made it seem like they were lovers and not just exploring the unknown. 

"Whoa," Chris said, "hey." 

Which JC pretty much took to mean that he was doing all right and that he should stop before he lost the chance to do anything more. Chris was almost thirty, and well. Chris was almost thirty. And naked, on JC's bed, about to come. 

"C'mere," Chris said, tugging at JC's arms, and JC slid onto the bed, feeling like an animal. When Chris ran his hand over the arc of JC's back, he felt even more like something wild, barely contained. When Chris moved onto him, JC stilled and waited, the indent of Chris's whole body seared in his skin. 

So Chris touched JC, gently at first and then more in-control, more Chris-like. Sex with Bobbie had been all right, fun at times, hot at others, but JC couldn't remember ever remember these strange little noises escaping his lips as Chris licked him from the slope of his ass up to the nape of his neck, sucking and nipping while strong hands raced up and down JC's sides. 

"Fuck me," JC whimpered, "just. Fuck me." 

"Jayce," Chris said, fingering JC's bony hips, his mouth on JC's left shoulder blade. 

"Just. Do it, all right?" JC stared at the pillow, propped up by bent arms, afraid to look at Chris. "In the bathroom, top shelf. All right? Just do it." The bed buckled as Chris's weight vanished, and JC looked back over his shoulder, waiting. "Chris?" 

"Yeah?" He said, appearing in the doorway, and his hair was standing in spikes, almost as wild as JC's but dark like ebony. "Yeah, man?" 

"I'm okay," JC said, like it needed stating. 

"I know." Chris walked over to the bed and sat down beside JC, leaning over and kissing him deeply, one damp hand on JC's cheek. "Turn over," Chris said, his palm curved to the swell of JC's ass, and JC did as asked, watching Chris with wide eyes as he settled onto his back, raw. "I want to see you." 

JC nodded and exhaled sharply when Chris sat between his legs, lightly dragging his nails from the bumps of JC's ankles to the ridge of his hips. JC shivered. Chris grinned and laid one palm on JC's belly, the other applying cold gel to the dark recesses of his body. When JC tightened, Chris rubbed his stomach, and JC stared at the ceiling, trying to relax, until Chris tapped his chest. 

"Look at me, Jayce." 

JC nodded and watched the dark eyes watching him, and he barely flinched when a finger slid into his body. It stung, just a bit, but JC had a guy finger him once during a blowjob without lube. This pain was nothing in comparison. 

And the hurt didn't last long, was practically gone by the time the second finger was thrusting deeply, and JC was squirming, which meant it felt wonderful. Chris hooked JC's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him, to distract him, as Chris slid, slowly, into JC's waiting body. 

"Shit," Chris whispered, kissing frantically, "shit." 

JC only nodded, clinging to Chris's chest and kissing furiously as the older man thrust, long and deep, a complete body rhythm. Bent nearly in half, JC was singing in his head, thinking if he knew sex with Chris would be this incredible, he probably would have had a crisis sooner. 

Despite the fact Chris was almost thirty, they fucked for another hour, and Chris even had JC giggling like a girl a couple times, naked bodies twisting like snakes on the bed. When it was all over, with Chris coming twice and JC only once but hard enough to blind him for a couple seconds, they lay in the dark, covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. 

"Chris?" JC murmured, tightly wrapped in Chris's arms as Chris mouthed his hair, pulling at it until JC was glad it was long and didn't mind so more that everyone razzed him about it because Chris *liked* it, thought it was hot. "Chris?" 

"Yeah, man?" Chris replied. 

JC turned in the circle of arms, legs tangling with Chris's legs, and JC was serious when he whispered, "I think Bobbie was right." 


	3. Maybe More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin's enlightened.

Chris pretty much hadn't left since he came over nine days before, and JC was so fine with that, even though he lied to Justin and said he was alone and it wasn't until the eighth day that he actually invited Justin over for dinner the next night and even then only because Chris kept calling him -- " _chickenshit_ " -- and that was a bit annoying.

So maybe JC was not _entirely_ fine with this twist of the plot, but fine enough that he spent the nights with Chris in his bed, and they woke up together to watch talk shows, while twisting around each other and eating cold pizza for breakfast. 

It was almost romantic. Not quite, but close to it. Justin was supposed to show up for dinner some time in the afternoon, after four or something, and JC was already twisted and nervous. Chris seemed to sense this and didn't mention anything, just stroked his back while they watched television. 

"Should probably take a shower," JC muttered, knowing his hair was long and greasy, and he had stains all over his belly and chest that he mostly wasn't thinking about. Chris was worse, though, with a chunk of his hair hard and glued together. JC tried to apologise for it, but Chris only laughed, waving off the concerns. Chris was just really good at what he did. 

It wasn't any wonder, however, that JC found himself in the shower with Chris, wet bodies sliding together while they kissed hotly under the unending stream of water. He just kept muttering -- "oh" -- whenever Chris did anything, tonguing the arc of his shoulder blade, tracing the length of spine with his teeth, sucking on his shoulder. 

Later, when JC turned around and was down on his knees, gripping Chris's hips and going down on him with water pounding against the back of his head, JC came without any outside stimulation, just exploding when Chris cried out, hitting his head against the tiles. 

"Wow," JC said stupidly, looking at his lap. "Like, wow." 

"Jesus," Chris agreed, looking at first dazed then absolutely astounded, "that's fucking never happened to me before, Jayce, man. My ego is, like, through the roof right now, dude. You da man," Chris added, hauling JC to his legs and putting him under the water. 

"Very wow," JC agreed, grinning when Chris nibbled at his back before squeezing shampoo into JC's longish hair, lathering. "This is kind of weird, you know? This whole you and me, in a shower naked, and in my bed naked, and the whole naked thing. Really weird." 

"No shit," Chris replied, squeezing JC's scalp between his fingers, rubbing firmly, and JC was shivering through his body, feeling wonderful. "I'm sending Bobbie a fu-gift basket, man, with sparkly fu-shit and stuff." 

"She's into pink," JC murmured, eyes pressed tightly shut as Chris moved his head under the water, fingers running the shampoo out of his hair. JC waited to speak again until the soap was washed out. "She's not speaking to me, though. I might have -- perhaps -- called her a lying cunt. Maybe." 

Chris laughed, not fighting when JC slid by him and returned the favour, soaking Chris with water. "Nothing says sorry like fu merchandise and the knowledge that she was right." Chris choked a bit on some errant water, and JC tapped him on the back helpfully, his fingers lingering on the warm skin. "So what gave it away?" 

JC stuck a soapy hand through Chris's hair. "Huh?" 

"See, Dani mostly knew. It was a game we loved to play. She dropped hints, and I blatantly ignored her. I pretty much did it to myself, you know? Because, this one time, we were talking about how to spruce up our sex life, and I mentioned, casually, ass-play and stuff, dildos and crap like that because I trusted her, you know?" 

"So she knew?" 

Chris shrugged. "I said I was adventurous, shit like that. I was secure enough in my manhood that something up my ass wouldn't bother me. Nothing ever happened, though, but I still think I gave the game away with that brilliantly stupid move." 

JC laughed and rinsed Chris off, drinking the water that dripped off his chin and arching into Chris, draping over him and feeling sexual and alive for the first time in too long. Chris tilted his head, and they kissed for a long time under the beat of the water, swallowing each other whole. 

~~~ 

Justin was early, and JC answered the door, trying to smile and act normal. Justin flashed a bottle of wine and a plate of nachos, arranged perfectly and colour coordinated, a regular Martha Stewart. Or store bought. JC stepped back to let him in and Justin paused, "are you all right?" 

JC nodded. "Yeah. Why?" 

"Don't know," Justin said, looking around. "Is Chris here?" 

Chris voice came wafting into the hall. "In the living room, Jup!" 

Justin bit his lip, and JC suddenly felt really sick, pressing his back against the wall as Justin looked at him again, serious. "I'm here for a talk, aren't I?" Justin asked, offering the gifts to JC, who took them and turned into the kitchen. "Can we get it over with then?" 

JC nodded and stared at the ground. "Outside." 

Justin wandered off onto the patio, and JC ducked into the living room to tell Chris was he already knew. Chris just nodded and assured him it'd be all right, that they'd been over this, and JC was allowed to tell as much, or as little, as he wanted. 

Outside, Justin had his feet in the pool, chewing on his fingernails. JC sat next to him, cross-legged, and leaning over to dip his fingers into the water. Justin jumped, startled by JC's sudden appearance. JC looked at him. "It's nothing horrible." 

Justin blinked. "You're not dropping out of the group?" 

Laughing abruptly, airily through his nose, JC shook his head. "No. Why would you think that?" 

Justin shrugged massively and sighed, running his hands over his buzzed hair. "You've been really fucking weird for awhile, Jayce. Like, you don't talk to anyone, and you don't go out, and I phone and you tell me you're alone, but Chris's car has been in the driveway for days. I'm here thinking you're gonna try and off yourself, and scared to fucking death." 

"No, I'm --" _Gay_. JC sighed. "I'm fine. I'm, just. Bobbie broke up with me." 

Justin looked up quickly. "Shit, man. That sucks, yo." 

_I'm gay_. "Well, yeah, it did, but like, Chris and I --" _fucked_ \-- "talked about things, like, Dani and stuff, and it's not so bad now, you know?" _I'm fucking gay, Justin_. JC brought his knees to his chest. "It wasn't a very nice breakup." 

"Messy, huh?" Justin asked, and JC nodded. "I liked her, but she didn't seem right for you, Jayce. So maybe it's better, yo. Maybe you'll find someone you fit better with, who won't mind that you're spazztic and strange." 

JC laughed and bumped his shoulder against Justin's. "Yeah, like you're any better." 

Justin grinned. "So what did you want to tell me, then?" 

JC stopped smiling and clutched the edge of the pool, fingers digging into the cement. Immediately, Justin touched his back, leaning into him. JC looked at the water, watched how it rippled and waved in the warm breeze, and said, "I'm gay, Justin." 

Justin kept his hand on JC's back but pulled back a bit. "Oh." 

"I mean. Probably, you know? And I just wanted," JC took a deep breath, "I wanted to tell you that because you're the best friend I have right now, and I. I just thought. You should know," JC finished feebly, pressing his eyes shut in fear of the wet heat that threatened to slip out. 

"Don't cry, Jayce," Justin whispered, wrapping his arms around JC's neck, holding him tight. "I just. I don't really know what to say or anything. It all sounds really dumb in my head. Like, congratulations, yo -- that's stupid. And do you have a boyfriend -- that's prying and shit. I'm just. I don't really know what to say." 

JC nodded into Justin's arms. "And there's something more, Justin, and it's probably going to be the part that weirds you out the most, all right? But what's done is done, and I can't -- and don't really want to -- change it. Okay?" 

"Anything, Jayce, you know that. Tell me." 

"Okay. Um. Chris is really over here because he and I. We're. Doing something." 

"Like, boyfriends?" Justin ventured quietly, and JC nodded again because it was kind of what they were, fucking only each other and comforting and loving when either of them needed it and even when they didn't. "That's kinda weird." 

"I know." 

Justin pulled back. "I'm okay with it, yo. Just don't breakup or anything." 

JC nodded. "I'll do my best." 

Justin nodded, too. "This is really. I'm. Wow. Chris. And you. And, well. You being gay isn't all that surprising, if you want the truth. You're --" 

"Flaming," JC supplied, grinning, "yeah, Chris told me." 

Justin laughed and stood up, swinging his hips as he walked back into the house, and JC ran after him only to find Justin flicking Chris's ear, saying, "you better take care of him, man, he's my best friend. I'll fucking chop off your balls if you hurt him." 

"Fuck," Chris muttered as JC slid up beside him, smiling at Justin who backed away, glaring. "Jesus, Curly. Christ. You act like I'm the one that convinced him Kirkpatrick lovin' was the way to go. Fuck. _My ear_." 

JC looked at Justin, who was still staring, and Justin narrowed his eyes. "If he fucks with you, Jayce," Justin said slowly, "I'll fucking kick his ass, I will." JC patted Chris's ear softly, hoping it would be all right. "But fuck, you guys," Justin stood back with a hand on his chin, "you're damn cute together." 

"Is he saying something? I can't hear him because he fucking killed my _ear_ ," Chris said, tucking his chin over JC's shoulder, and JC smiled to himself, feeling Chris's hand move across his back and under his white shirt, drawing circles with his knuckles. 

"Can you guys kiss?" Justin asked, sitting down on the chaise and resting his elbows on his knees, chin cradled in the palms of his hand, and JC looked at him, a slight smile on his lips. "No, really. I know you can. I just -- I wanna see it, yo." 

Chris smirked. "Why, Curly?" 

"It's kinda sexy," Justin replied, "the idea of my two best friends getting it on." 

"That's," JC started, and Chris finished, "fucking kinky, Jup!" 

Justin rolled his eyes, his eyes dark and electric under the rim of his bucket hat, and JC found himself staring. "Stop being lame, yo. It's not like I'm asking to watch you screw in front of me. I just wanna see you kiss. Just. Kiss." 

JC arched his back as Chris's hand dipped under the back of his jeans, the middle finger sliding into the cleft of JC's ass, the rings cold against JC's skin. Chris's free hand touched his face and tilted JC's head. "You wanna?" 

JC nodded and looked at Chris, who was leaning forward. JC wet his lips with his tongue and breathed deep, and Chris looked at him, eyes burning beneath dark brows, and stuck out his tongue slowly, stretching it. JC leaned into Chris, his tongue extended and meeting, the lips touching only after the tongues slid against each other, greeting in a wet kiss. 

"Fuck," Justin whispered, and JC looked at him, blue eyes matched with Justin's gaze, staring as Chris licked up JC's neck, the hidden hand prodding into JC's body, barely grazing the inside, but JC was burning. 

"That what you wanted, Curly?" Chris asked, lips on JC's jaw, and JC looked to the floor, hard against Chris's hip and curled into him to hide it. Justin hummed, and Chris said, "good because that's all you're gonna get, Infant." 

"Fuck, all right. I get it. I'm weird," Justin said, laughing, "but that was really hot." 

"I'm going to go get supper out of the oven," JC said suddenly, standing up and removing Chris's hand at all once, stumbling into the kitchen and pressed his body against the fridge, the cold metal violent against his skin. 

"Hey," Chris whispered, and JC jumped, turning around quickly and finding himself pressed against the refrigerator, full-body hold. JC swallowed, fingers spread against the appliance and Chris lifted his head, lips searing JC's face with a kiss. "You all right, Jayce?" 

"Fine," JC muttered, rocking against Chris's hip and not really meaning to do it, just unable to stay still, not when Chris was rubbing against him, cool fingers under JC's shirt and petting his belly. "Just. That was really strange." 

"Yep," Chris agreed, tucking his face against JC's neck, and JC shivered, the swipe of beard strangely erotic. "But see, it's cool that he asked because that means he's gonna be cool if we're affectionate and shit like that." 

"I used to really love him," JC breathed, so silent Chris had to lean in to hear it, and JC brushed Chris's elfin ear with his lips, breath hot as it slid over Chris's head, into his hair, his mind. "Like, I fucking wanted him. Badly. For a very long time." 

Chris pulled back, thumbing the smooth skin of JC's stomach under his white shirt. "Yeah?" JC nodded and bit his lip hard, wincing in pain, and suddenly Chris's thumb was there, brushing away the hurt. "That's cool, all right?" 

"Is it?" JC asked, sucking Chris's thumb into his mouth, his long fingers wrapping around Chris's wrist and holding him there, and Chris nodded, his free hand against JC's cock, cupping him through the thin jeans. JC suddenly felt like an animal inside, agitated, and it was probably the kitchen, in the way silver met black and everything was sharp, vicious against flesh. 

"The lasagna's burning," Chris muttered, "you wanna get it or you wanna fuck?" 

"I'm starving!" Justin cried from the living room. "Fuck later!" 

JC looked at Chris, and Chris rolled his eyes, stepping back and licking his thumb to taste JC. JC smirked and went to the oven, taking the slightly crispy pasta dish from the rack. Chris was against his back, rocking slowly as Justin came into the kitchen. 

"If you want me to go home, I'll go home," Justin said, smiling as he sat down at the table, and Chris thwapped him over the head while attempting to open the wine. When he couldn't, Justin took over, and eventually JC pushed them both away and did it himself. 

"So, who's the bottom?" Justin finally asked while chewing on his third slice of garlic bread, when they were all finally sitting down in JC's dining room. Though he knew Justin had been building up to a question all through the meal, JC choked on his wine, and Chris crooked an eyebrow, patting JC on the back. "What? Fuck. I'm _just_ asking." 

"You're a freak," Chris said, shaking his head, "a total, utter freak." 

"So both of you, huh?" Justin sipped his wine -- his fourth glass in twenty minutes and JC began to suspect Justin was having some serious coping issues -- and stared at JC, who nodded because what Justin wanted, Justin got, and JC always gave to him freely. "That's cool. It hurts like a motherfuck, though, so doubly impressive." 

Chris laughed and ran his fingers over the back of JC's neck, the flesh cold enough to make JC shiver and roll his shoulders. "Right, Curly." 

Justin smirked and pierced his lasagna. "Hey, been there, done that, man." 

JC swallowed his pasta and sniffed loudly, staring at the table. It needed to be wiped down with a damp cloth. "Who?" 

"Just a guy, yo, fuck off with the third degree" Justin said, though he wasn't especially seriously, and his face was flushed. Drunk, JC realised, and saying things he normally wouldn't. Years in clubs, pretending to be older, meant Justin could be wasted and never look like it. "But the fact is yes, I've done it, and it fucking hurt, which is all I really remember. So, yeah." 

"I like that we're talking about this over dinner," Chris exclaimed, mouth full of noodles and cheese and sauce, and JC tried not to look at him because he wasn't sure whether he wanted to puke or kiss. "Perfect timing, Jup, you fucking lush." 

"Hey, hey," Justin said then seemed to forget what he was saying, blinking hard. "It's really fucked up, you know, you two together. The dynamics of the group are skewed, yo. That's not right, but." Justin scratched his cheek. "Are you in love?" 

JC didn't want to be the one to answer that; the words weren't there and he didn't even know how to say them if they were. Chris picked it up instead, fingers counting JC's ribs through his shirt, gently calming JC's rattled nerves. "We will be someday. Right now, kid, it's fucking and company. I love him, but in the way I've always loved him." 

Justin met JC's eyes, and JC turned away, afraid, but Justin kept talking, "you just fucking better treat him right, Chris. And you fucking better love him because he deserves it," Justin said, and JC ventured a glance, wishing he hadn't. "And you, Jayce, you give him a chance, all right? You fucking better give him a chance, Jayce." 

It was only then that JC realised Justin probably knew all along what JC never wanted to admit, what he'd been waiting for all these years and finally gave up on. Justin always knew more than he should, and JC was always transparent like glass. 

~~~ 

JC finished putting clean sheets on the bed by the time Chris climbed up the stairs, having seen a drunk Justin home and locked up the house when he returned. Chris hovered in the doorway while JC tucked in corners and fluffed pillows, meticulously making sure everything was right and proper and cozy. 

"You don't love him anymore," Chris said, more a statement than a question. 

"No," JC replied slowly, looking over his shoulder. "Not anymore." 

"You think you could love me?" 

JC didn't have to think about that. "I will. Mostly already do, you know, so yeah. I will." JC shrugged out his shirt and pushing his jeans off his hips and onto the floor, climbing under the freshly washed duvet. "You coming to bed?" 

"Yeah," Chris said and slipped under the covers, and JC leaned into him, addicted to the warmth of Chris's skin, the way it felt to press against him. Chris bent his knees, pulled them up, and JC was suddenly hard and hot against his thigh, looming and feeling huge and alive. 

"I think you're beautiful," JC said suddenly, cupping Chris's face, and Chris looked at him like he was insane, but JC only laughed and kissed him. "No, no, seriously. I don't want you thinking I settled or anything. Okay?" JC leaned down close to him and bit lightly on the tip of Chris's nose. "Plus, you know. Fucking awesome sex." 

"It's true; I am the best," Chris agreed, smirking and unfurling his tongue. JC laughed and caught it between his lips, sucking it into his mouth and kissing Chris, bending into his compact body and humping his thigh. Chris hissed and ran a hand over the arch of JC's back, pulling him closer, and JC shook deep in his bones. 

"Sit up, sit up," JC said, pulling Chris up and sitting on his legs, arms hooked over Chris's shoulders as JC ran his face through Chris's soft hair, not spiky anymore, and everywhere. It made him look older, more like a scruffy man and less like a punk. "Just like this, all right?" 

"Jesus, Jayce," Chris breathed, sucking on JC's chest. His fingers pressed into JC's back and pulled him closer, while JC fumbled with one hand in the beside table, his cock hard against Chris's stomach as he arched. Chris's finger dipped between the cleft of his ass, pressing and rubbing. JC shuddered hard and ripped the condom open with his teeth, pulling back to put it on Chris, and Chris just didn't stop touching, growing desperately urgent as JC slicked him up with his fist. 

"Fucking bed sheets," JC muttered when attempting to get a blob in Chris's hand and got it mostly on the bed instead, but then Chris's fingers were sinking into him, two at a time, and JC didn't care about the fucking bed sheets anymore, just cared about grinding his hips down and getting Chris to touch him as deeply as possible. 

"You ready?" Chris whispered, looking up and pulling his chin down JC's chest. JC shivered full-body and lifted his hips up, spreading his legs. Sinking down slowly, JC hissed and bit his lip. It hurt, just a little bit, but more than the other ways they'd done it. Buckling up, JC twisted his hips, bringing Chris deeper still as Chris hit every sensitive part of him, and JC opened his eyes wide. 

"Jesus, fuck," Chris growled, one hand wrapped around JC's narrow hips, the other fisted in his back, holding JC as he arched back, his belly drawn taut and tight. Chris pressed his tongue to his stretched muscles, and JC rolled his hips sharply, not minding too much when Chris's teeth grazed his skin. 

"Harder, Chris," JC muttered, unfolding his legs and wrapping them around Chris's back, locking them tightly, and Chris latched his mouth onto JC's chest, sucking to muffle the strange noises escaping his mouth. JC shimmied desperately, grinding his palms over Chris's chest and shoulders and back. "Harder." 

"I'm going to fucking hurt you if I go any harder," Chris said, his hips rocking as much as they could with JC bearing down on him, writhing though he tried to control the thrust and slide of his hips. "Fuck, Jayce. I can't. I gotta move." 

JC was suddenly on his back with Chris over him, completely out then thrusting into him wholly with one abrupt shake of his hips. JC arched off the bed and scrambled to hold the edge of the duvet so he didn't slide completely off the mattress. Squeezing his toes into Chris's back, Chris withdrew completely and rolled JC onto his belly. 

"You cocktease," JC breathed, mouth in the dark blue sheets and smelling the soap amidst the scent of sex, hot and bitter-sweet and man. JC rolled his hips then Chris was inside again, completely on JC's back, and JC could feel everything, the hard nipples, the spattering of hair, everything. "You fucker." 

"Fuck, Jayce, the condom broke," Chris said, holding still inside JC's body, "but I'm clean, so don't worry, all right? I'm clean." 

"Yes, yes, me too. It doesn't matter. I trust you, I trust you," JC repeated, and in his head in sounded like, I love you, I love you, and that was surprising but expected. JC pushed his hips back, lifting to his knees. Chris picked up the rhythm again, taking them deep, and circled JC's waist with his hand, his fist curling around JC's dick. 

Chris kissed the back of JC's neck, a calm sort of tenderness amidst the crazy fucking, and JC couldn't stop himself, came all over the bed sheets and thrust back, taking Chris deeply into his body over and over again, simmering in pleasure, until Chris came too. 

"Are you gonna be able to walk tomorrow?" Chris asked, pulling out slowly and wiping his hands clean on the sheets. JC laughed and shook his head because he probably wasn't. Chris collapsed and wrapped an arm around JC's waist, nuzzling his shoulder, and JC smiled. "I'll wash the sheets. And take you to lunch. And maybe buy you a pair of pants, those red leather ones." 

"Why?" JC asked, feeling sleepy. 

"Because this is obviously something more, man; not maybe more, definitely more. So. I don't know. I want to, and plus, I fucking love your ass, and those pants looked great on you. Even if they're red, and leather. And." Chris yawned. "Fuck, I'm tired." 

"Then go to bed. I'll be here in the morning," JC whispered and closed his eyes. 

"Yeah," Chris replied, "I know." 


	4. Nothing Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JC wants to be happy.

Chris went out of town for three days to promote FuMan, which left JC alone in his house, and it took him all three days to admit he didn't like it. He was used to Chris in his space now, or rather, more used to him than ever before. JC would admit, if directly questioned, that in the past he had lied to Chris to avoid inviting him over and ruining the stillness of his house. 

But now. JC flipped in bed, trying to get comfortable and longed for him to come back, to invite himself into JC's house and climb under the covers with him. JC didn't want to think about the implications, just that they were serious, and maybe he and Chris should really sit down and discuss their relationship. 

When sleep finally came, it was restless, and in those minutes when he couldn't fall back to his dreams, JC found himself watching the clock, knowing Chris's flight landed over an hour ago and wondering if Chris was going to come to JC's place or go to his apartment. JC contemplated calling Chris's cell, but thought, perhaps, that was too needy, and it wasn't like they were really dating or anything, not really. 

It was in the middle of his worrying that Chris stumbled into the bedroom, dropping his bags and shorts all in one step and throwing himself on the bed. JC yelped, it all happening way too fast for his sluggish mind, but Chris just snuggled in deep and kissed the back of his neck. 

"Hey, man," he murmured, "I missed you." Chris kissed along the line of JC's shoulder, his arms tight around JC's waist. "So fucking tired, so fucking impotent right now, really wanted to, like, screw. I love your bed." 

"Um, yeah," JC said, "I'm glad you came back." 

"No better place to be," Chris murmured, and his breathing slowed considerably, which JC knew meant he was out like a light and gone until noon. JC didn't mind so much because he was suddenly tired and not at all caring that Chris still had his shoes on. 

~~~ 

Chris wasn't beside him when JC woke up, but he could smell the delicious scent of bacon wafting through the house, which meant Chris was cooking and that was never good at all. JC tugged on some sweatpants and shuffled through the hall, blinking when Busta barked at him then nuzzled his feet. 

"Hi, dogs," JC said stupidly as Korea bounded up the stairs, happy to see him. They danced around him, and JC smiled even if they were annoying little things with high-pitched yips. He'd kind of missed them while Chris was away. 

The pugs followed him down the stairs then raced ahead around the corner. JC yawned and cracked his back, his eyes narrowed against the assault of bright light. With his eyes mostly closed, he drifted into the kitchen and immediately wrapped his arms around Chris, tucking his chin over his shoulder. 

"Morning," JC said sleepily. 

"Hey," Chris said and turned his head, and JC smiled brightly, kissing the open lips and laughing when Chris pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. JC almost fell over. Chris was grinning against his bare chest, and it just felt so right to be there. "Hungry?" 

JC nodded and mock-growled, "for you." 

"See," Chris said, "a healthy diet of Kirkpatrick is good for a person." 

A laugh from the table caused JC to freeze, and Chris gently pried JC's fingers out of his belly, stroking his arms softly. JC frowned, and Chris kissed him again, on the lips then over his face, saying, "I told her, man, I told her. She's cool." 

"Hey, JC," Dani said warmly. 

"Um, hi." JC tried to smile, but he was blushing, could feel the heat on his skin, and wasn't letting go of Chris either. He searched Dani's face for any discomfort, but he seemed to be the only one freaking out. "I feel very. naked," JC muttered. "Sorry." 

Chris took off his shirt and handed it to JC, and JC stared at it stupidly. Chris pushed it at him, and JC took it, sliding into the shirt and walking over to the table, trying to smile at Dani while Busta and Korea yelped at Chris for food. 

"Coffee," Chris announced, setting a mug down in front of JC. 

Dani smirked. "He must like you. He never bothered with coffee for me." 

"You don't like coffee," Chris replied with a grin, his fingers dipped into JC's bedraggled hair and stroking his scalp. "And Jayce takes it black, so it's not like my age-addled mind can't remember that. You and your freaky honey in tea." 

"I like honey in my tea," JC said idly, lolling his head back. 

"Fuck. I attract them," Chris muttered, "and my eggs are burning. Goddamn it. I suck." 

JC smiled to himself, playing with the salt and pepper shakers, and he looked up to see Dani watching, her eternally-kind eyes fixed upon his face. She smiled, and JC smiled back, trying to be better about this than he was acting. It wasn't like he didn't want people to know, about him, about Chris, about the two of them together. He thought, maybe, he was just shy about it. 

"He's really happy with you," Dani said lowly, so Chris wouldn't hear, and it didn't matter anyway because Chris was using the electric can opener to get food for the pugs, who were barking loudly in joy. "He hasn't stopped talking about you." 

"Really?" JC asked, and he sounded a lot more surprised than he intended. 

"Really," Dani repeated, still smiling, and JC understood why Chris loved her, could fall in love with her. She was just that type of girl, who was so nice and so warm to everyone that sexual preference no longer really mattered. "He told me about Bobbie, too." 

JC sighed deeply at the mention. "Yeah." 

"You should tell her the truth," Dani said and reached over to squeeze JC's curled fingers, where they rested clutching the shakers. "She only ever wanted you to be happy. We weren't really friends, but we talked about that sometimes." 

"I will, in time," JC promised, and Chris returned with mangled eggs and burnt toast, looking apologetic but still smiling, still laughing, like maybe he was happier now than JC had seen him in awhile. 

And maybe, JC realised, he was happier, too. 

~~~ 

When Dani excused herself to take a shower, JC made some lame excuse of his own to go put on clothes, maybe brush his hair and his teeth, something. Chris tagged along, walking behind him, and JC was torn between being pissed about the Dani thing and giving in to the fingers scribbling at his back, trying to grab the hem of the shirt. 

"You mad?" Chris asked once the door was closed, and JC thought about it, but he really wasn't, not really, so he shook his head and looked for a clean pair of jeans. Chris grabbed JC by the hips and physically turned him. "Embarrassed?" 

"Of course not," JC said and was grateful it sounded so strong. "Just, I guess, she's been with you, too. She's your ex, and I'm. _not_." JC chewed on his lip and tentatively brushed his hand over Chris's belly. "I don't know, man. It's just weird." 

"Weird," Chris repeated, and JC nodded, hooking a finger into Chris's boxers and idly snapping the elastic. Chris glanced down briefly but quickly returned his focus to JC. "Bad weird?" 

"Just different," JC said, forcing the words out slowly, and when they touched his lips, they sounded all right so he nodded. "Like, I think I need to tell Bobbie, and I feel really bad I was so. I was _cruel_ to her, and she didn't deserve it." 

"She told you something that you didn't want to hear," Chris said. "You were allowed to be angry about it, Jayce." 

JC looked at Chris, stared him straight in the eyes. "I don't get mad, Chris, you know that. I don't fight. She told me what I needed to hear, and I. I almost hit her, you know? She said it, and I was shaking, I was so pissed. Like, how dare she, you know?" 

"Fear reaction," Chris said. "It's all right." 

"She cried," JC muttered. "I made her cry. I've never made anyone cry, man. Never. Not in my entire life, and it's. She was right, Chris," he said feebly, and sniffed loudly, bowing into Chris's palm when it cupped his cheek. "And we still have to tell Joey and Lance. And my family, and yours, I guess. You know, if it's, like. You know." 

"Serious?" Chris supplied, and JC nodded. "You pick a day and a time, and we'll fly the whole lot of them here, or we'll go to them, whatever. Just tell me, and I'll tell the whole fucking world about you and me." 

"Well, we don't need to go that far," JC said, drawing a thumb across the pale flesh of Chris's belly, right below the elastic of his shorts. The skin puckered, and JC smiled a bit to himself. "Dani says you talked about me." 

"Well, yeah. I needed to tell someone about my suddenly alive and kicking love life. Busta was getting bored of it, I think, peeing all over the place and shit. He just might be dumb as a stick, but I like to think he was protesting." 

"He pissed all over my white tennis shoes," JC murmured. 

"See? Jealous little fuck." Chris grinned. "Speaking of which, wanna fuck?" 

"Right now?" JC asked, his fingers already mostly down Chris's pants anyway, where the skin was warm and damp and hard against JC's skin. "Your ex-girlfriend is three doors down. Isn't that breaking a rule or something?" 

"Probably. Better keep it simple, then." Chris tugged on the shirt JC was wearing, and JC lifted his arms, shivering when Chris folded his palms against JC's sides and ran upwards, catching the thin tee. "Mmm, yeah. Did I tell you how much I missed your sexy body? Fuck." 

"I missed _your_ sexy body," JC admitted, secretly smiling to himself. He curved his fingers around Chris's dick, leaning forward, and Chris kissed over his face, his neck. Stroking deliberately, he loved how Chris arched and hissed, flashing perfect teeth. 

"I missed you more, snuggle-bunny," Chris said, grabbing JC's cock, quick and abrupt, like Chris was, and how JC liked him. JC bucked and closed his eyes, pumping his fists and his hips in time with the rhythm. It was like dancing, almost. "Fuck, but you're so goddamn hot, C. All the girls are jealous of me, I know it." 

JC giggled, unselfconscious of his admittedly strange laugh. "They probably are." 

"They _definitely_ are," Chris corrected solemnly, and JC thought it odd, that they were talking yet still jerking each other off, hips bumping, legs twisted together. It was like an afterthought, the fingers on his dick, and JC liked that. Or it was, until Chris grinned a crazy grin and said, "but enough about that, Jayce. We have some business to attend to." 

JC smiled. "Yeah?" 

Chris stroked hard, hitting all those sweet spots, and smirked. "Yeah." 

"Okay," JC agreed, wanting so badly to spread his legs and be fucked properly, but this was good, too, with Chris sucking on his throat, licking hot trails all over his skin, and his fingers, oh god, they so knew what to do with a dick. 

Chris moaned against him as JC ran a thumb over the head of Chris's cock, trying to coax him to orgasm, loving the slide of silky hot flesh against his palm, adoring how Chris squirmed. When Chris's hand pulled away, JC threw his head back and whimpered, but Chris shushed him, sucking on his shoulder, and shoved JC's boxers half-way down his legs. JC followed the movement and bared Chris's ass, palming the curve of his ass. 

"God, I want to fuck you, but no goddamn time, and my fucking ex-girlfriend is probably listening, the kinky bastard," Chris muttered, and he thrusted hard against the hollow of JC's hip. JC bucked, falling back against the wall and wrapped his arms around Chris's neck, licking over his lips. Chris held their cocks together in his fist, and JC squirmed impatiently. 

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured in Chris's ear, tingly all over, and writhing against the wall. Chris pumped them, strong and determined, and JC tongued Chris's lips, making them open, him open, and loving how wet and hot it all was. "Fuck, Chris. Let me." 

But Chris was too busy with JC's cock to hear it. JC grabbed blindly at the dresser, grabbing a handful of the petroleum jelly he used to remove makeup, and smacked Chris's hand away from their dicks. Chris looked at him, almost delirious, "what?" 

"This," JC breathed, panting hard, and lubed up Chris's cock then, kicking off his shorts, lifted a long leg and wrapped it around Chris's hip. JC figured between his lack of weight and the wall, Chris, who was stocky and strong, would understand the request and deliver it. "Come on, Chris. Come on." 

Shaking, Chris positioned himself then grabbed JC's other leg, moving so quickly that JC was amazed he didn't fall, but then he was there, pressed against the wall and Chris, filled so fucking deep he was seeing stars, trying not to scream like he wanted to. 

"Okay, okay, move," JC said, and pushed his hips at Chris, taking him so deep they both shuddered. He kept his arms around Chris's neck as Chris fucked him, and they kissed sloppy, sexy kisses, with bumping tongues and grinding teeth. "You're so. You're so. Oh. Oh!" 

"God," Chris groaned, and came with one last, deep, delicious thrust. JC threw his head back, bumping the wall loudly, and wet his belly, Chris's chest, exploding all over. Gasping for breath, Chris pulled out and helped JC find his legs. JC buckled and laughed, feeling like jelly, and Chris hugged him close. 

God, JC thought, it just felt so deliriously good. 

~~~ 

Chris got on the phone with the airline to get plane tickets while JC explained about the dog food, and the vitamins, and the things they currently enjoyed, like balled-up black socks and swing music. Dani looked bemused, and JC realised she probably knew all of this already. He mumbled the last little bit then shut up. 

Justin stopped by and seemed surprised to see Dani. He was polite, but JC could tell Justin still didn't like her all that much, not after she and Chris broke up. He blamed her for Chris's sullen character change, and JC suspected it was mostly because Justin missed his best friend and couldn't deal with the bitter, jaded man left in his place. 

"I can look after them," Justin said. "I have dogs, too, you know." 

"Your mom has dogs. You couldn't keep them alive for a weekend," Chris said, smacking Justin upside the head, and Justin looked up, irritated. "And Dani's going to housesit, too. No problem, Jup. Relax." 

Chris sat down next to JC, and JC immediately wrapped his body around him, comfortable to feel Chris breathing. It was nice having him, JC thought, nice to be with him and have people know he was. JC wanted to tell his mom all about it. 

"When are you leaving?" Dani asked, scratching Korea behind the ears while she squeaked, as happy as a dog could be. 

"Like, four hours? Something. We should probably leave soon," Chris said, like it wasn't obvious, and JC nodded, his stomach all fluttery and twisty. He was so not looking forward to having to talk to Bobbie again, not after how it all ended. "I'm still packed from the FuMan trip." 

"I have stuff at Bobbie's that I need to get back," JC mumbled, and inside, he was thinking he really didn't want to go to LA, not now, not when he wasn't ready for it, but if Chris could tell his ex, then JC could tell his own. 

Besides, JC thought he kind of, maybe, really needed this: the closure. 

~~~ 

The plane trip was long, and JC napped through most of it, leaning against Chris's shoulder and drooling. He wiped at his lips when he woke up and looked sheepish, but Chris just squeezed his thigh, like it didn't matter at all. JC peeked out the window. It looked clear and sunny. 

"Ever fucked in an airplane bathroom?" Chris asked, breath hot in JC's ear, and JC shook his head, smiling. "I have. Once. With a steward, when I was eighteen heading down to Orlando for school. I was bruised all over, but fuck, it was the hottest thing ever." 

JC ducked his head. "Yeah?" 

"Mmm-hmm." Chris slapped JC's thigh and sat back. "Maybe on the trip home, C." 

"Maybe," JC agreed and shivered inside. He hummed to himself while the plane landed and followed Chris out, tugging his hat low over his eyes and walking with his head down. They bypassed the baggage claim, because Chris never, ever checked anything, ever, and rented a car, this huge, ugly old thing. "I don't know, man." 

"This is us being sneaky and inconspicuous," Chris explained, kicking it with his shoe, and JC swore a sprinkle of rust fluttered to the ground. "And it was the only one they had, so shut up and get in. I'd hate to be photographed with this thing." 

JC climbed in and buckled up, chomping on his fingernails while Chris pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. Chris turned on the radio and sang along, loud and annoying, until JC tuned in, just to make him sing normally. Chris honked the horn enthusiastically and changed lanes, nearly killing a car full of elderly women. 

When they neared Bobbie's apartment, JC stopped singing and suddenly felt really sick. Chris kept singing, but lower now, more like real singing, and JC closed his eyes, listening to him. They should really give Chris more leads, he thought, his voice is so nice. amazing. 

"You want me to come in, or should I wait here until it's clear?" 

JC shrugged. "I don't know." 

"I should wait here," Chris said and rubbed his thumb over the back of JC's neck, leaning close and looking so serious. JC sighed deeply and frowned, kneading his upset stomach. "Dude, this isn't your execution. You'll be fine." 

"Okay," JC said and kissed Chris quickly on the lips before opening the door and shutting it quietly. He trudge up the grass then fished the key to the apartment building out of his pants, letting himself in. He looked at Chris, and Chris gave him a thumbs up. 

Bobbie lived in a hole, but she loved it, so JC had never told her he hated it. Walking up the creaky old stairs, lined by brown, water-stained wallpaper, JC had never felt so ugly in his whole life. Rooms were supposed to speak about things, he felt, but this was just hideous. 

He knocked on Bobbie's door and waited, hearing her moving behind it. When it opened, and she peered out at him, he said, "Bobbie, can we talk?" And she nodded, letting him in. He took off his shoes and walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch. 

"I didn't know you were in town," she said. 

"I'm not. I flew here to talk to you," JC explained, crossing his legs and bouncing his foot around. His mind screamed -- "fag!" -- but it wasn't like he wasn't one. It wasn't like it wasn't obviously true. "And to apologise, about, you know. Saying things I didn't mean." 

Bobbie nodded and sat down on the edge of her taped-up ottoman. "I shouldn't have said what I said, either. We were just mad and frustrated with each other." 

"But you were right," JC said quietly, staring at his feet. 

"What?" 

JC looked up, brushing his hair from his eyes. "I said, you were right. I'm, uh. I'm gay. I've always been gay. I just. I didn't want anyone to know, and when you said that, I just. I thought I hid it so well, Bobbie. I. I was so ashamed of it." 

"Oh, JC," Bobbie said, "honey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all." 

JC nodded. "I know. Or I'm learning." JC licked his lips, and scratched his knee, and felt positively queer sitting on this ugly yellow couch. "And it's better, because. I maybe am. Well, I think I have a boyfriend or something. A _lover_." 

Bobbie grinned. "Is he cute?" 

JC bit his lip and nodded, giddy inside, "so cute. He's so hot, Bobbie, and he makes me feel so good." 

Bobbie laughed and looked honestly delighted. "Do I know him?" 

JC nodded. "He's waiting outside." 

"Then call him in, silly," Bobbie said, and handed JC the phone. JC dialled the number quickly, and waited. Chris answered with a gruff -- "be right there, dude" -- and hung up. JC put the phone back on its stand, and Bobbie smiled. "One of the guys, right?" 

"Yeah," JC admitted. "How did you know?" 

"Because I know you," Bobbie said, "and I know you need to trust people completely before you let them in. I was lucky you let me in at all. The five of you are like one person sometimes, and it's so hard to break through that. It's only been a month since we broke up. It would have to be one of them." 

Chris walked in the door at that moment, and Bobbie looked up, smiled and didn't seem surprised at all. Chris kissed her on the cheek, and JC held out his hand to him, letting him know it was okay. With a small smile, Chris plopped down on the couch and put a protective hand on JC's thigh, leaning into him. 

"I am so happy for you," Bobbie said. "You deserve nothing less than to be happy." 

"I am," JC promised. "I really am." 

And it shocked him to know that he was telling her the truth. 


	5. Always Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JC finds more in Chris.

When JC woke up, it was early, and he smiled to himself, kissing Chris's exposed shoulder before getting up, unfolding his naked legs and trudging to the bathroom. He pissed while he scratched his belly then wrapped himself in a big woolly robe. It was the first time in a long time that JC could remember waking up this happy. 

He went to sit by the window, pulling his knees to his chest and staring out over Los Angeles. It was an almost underground city, nowhere as busy as New York's bustling streets, but he still loved it. The hotel they were staying at was his favourite, and Chris demanded the best room, whispering in JC's ear, "because my dude deserves the best." 

JC thought he rather liked being Chris's dude. 

JC smiled and tipped his head, resting his cheek on his knee. For the first time in his whole life, things seemed really right, like this was how JC was supposed to be living and just hadn't known until now. A warm line of happiness worked down his spine, and JC felt energised despite the semi-early hour. 

JC knew he was falling in love, if he wasn't already, and that worried him a bit because when he fell, he fell hard. Falling in love was like giving away his soul, and when it never worked out, he always got it back in pieces sharp like shattered glass. JC was tired of bleeding inside, but Chris was a dedicated lover, as Dani proved, and if they didn't work, would break just as hard. JC thought, with a crooked smile, they'd probably end up comforting each other anyway. 

Chris flipped onto his back, arms flailed out beside him, and the covers slipped down his soft waist, nestling between his legs. JC sometimes wanted to tell Chris how beautiful he thought he was, but Chris didn't let anyone call him that and wouldn't believe it anyway. JC liked bigger guys, anyway, because they made him feel safe. Maybe he'd tell Chris that. 

Smiling when Chris snuffled, moving his lips, JC hugged his legs and felt so fucking happy. They were having lunch with Bobbie, which was great, so much more than JC expected from her, but she was a stand up gal. He loved her like a close friend. 

"C, dude. Come back to bed," Chris muttered, and JC fluttered over to him, pulling off his robe and sliding into his arms. Chris hummed sweetly in his ear, sleepy, and JC kissed him on the jaw, just a tiny little thing. Chris smiled, and JC closed his eyes, listening to him breathe. 

~~~ 

JC woke up to Chris blowing in his ear and grinned widely, trying to squirm away, but Chris's arm was wrapped around his waist, holding him tight. "Chris, Chris, stop," JC said, giggling because it tickled, and Chris licked him instead. JC yelped, "ew!" 

"Funny man," Chris murmured and licked him again, right at the corner of JC's jaw then down his neck to his shoulder, burrowing his rough face against JC's skin. The arm over JC's waist tightened, fingers spread on his boney hip. "You're in good spirits today, dude." 

"So are you," JC replied, nestling against Chris with Chris's chest pressed warmly to his back. JC loved spooning, and he crooked his legs, bending them parallel to Chris's until they were pressed together completely. "I feel, like, great! Like, really great." 

Chris kissed JC's shoulder. "I'm fucking glad to hear that." 

JC nodded and tickled his fingers over Chris's arm, ruffling the black hair and humming a bit to himself. Chris was so nice to touch, so JC traced the curved of Chris's fingers with the pad of his index finger, from root to nail. Chris lifted his hand and JC slid his under it, spreading his fingers and letting Chris's fingers fall between them. JC closed his eyes. 

"You ever surprised at this?" Chris asked, and JC knew he meant us, so he nodded, pressing his lips together. Chris nuzzled his neck, and JC sighed softly, tipping his head back. He really like this, fitted against Chris, knowing that was Chris's heart beating against his back and Chris's cock nested between his legs. "Me too." 

JC opened his eyes and stared at the wall. "Are you happy with me?" 

"Yeah," Chris said, his voice low. "Too much, sometimes. You know?" 

"It's intense," JC agreed, nodding. Chris swiped a cheek against the back of JC's neck, and JC's skin prickled as he shivered, wishing the blankets weren't at Chris's feet. Chris moved, pulling him closer, and suddenly JC was a lot warmer. "But good. I like it." 

"You won't be surprised if this is heading where I think it is?" 

"I won't be surprised at all," JC admitted, and he knew, just knew, that Chris was falling, too, if not already there, and that was comforting in the way it assuaged his worries. "Because, yes. Like, yes. I won't be surprised at all." 

JC smiled, and Chris brushed his hand over his face, soft like gentle wind, and pulled back his hair before moving down over the bridge of JC's nose to his lips. JC breathed on his palm, a short burst of warm air, and Chris's touch softened. JC turned onto his back. 

Lifting his fingers, JC put them on Chris's neck and dragged them downward, over the slope of his shoulders and spiralling down his arms then back up. Chris looked so serious, like he was studying JC's face, and JC didn't mind it, liked when Chris was quiet, so he dragged his fingers back up, under the arc of his arms and fluttering down his sides. Chris twitched, ticklish, and JC stretched his arms as far as possible, settling on his hips for an instant before moving up the centre of his belly to his chest, settling both hands folded against his heart. 

"Come down here," JC said, tugging on his arm so Chris collapsed beside him, half on his body, and JC ran his hand through Chris's hair. Chris tipped his head, swallowing loudly, and JC folded his fingers over the scratchy back of Chris's neck. JC smiled. "You want me, maybe, to call Bobbie and see if she'll go out with us tonight instead?" 

Chris grinned. "Why, Jayce, do you have something dirty in mind?" JC ducked his head and beamed, shrugging, and Chris pressed a kiss to his neck, hot and heavy on JC's lithe body. JC spread his legs a bit, and Chris's thigh slid between them. "I'd like that, man." 

"Me too," JC said, twirling Chris's hair between his fingers before reaching for the phone. Bobbie didn't pick up, he knew she wouldn't, and he left a message saying -- "late dinner, then, I don't know, a club, or something. Dancing, or whatever. Yes." -- before hanging up. "Um. I'm just gonna. brush my teeth." 

Chris grimaced. "You and me both, dude." 

JC got up first, and Chris tagged behind, holding his hips. Giggling, JC took the errant hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing the fingertips. When JC looked back, Chris was smiling fondly, and JC turned around to kiss him, open-mouthed and not minding the tang of early morning. 

"Next thing you'll know we'll be sharing toothbrushes," Chris murmured, and JC squeaked a laugh, looking bleak because it wasn't like he packed anything at all for this trip, except his wallet and his house keys. He was going to wear the clothes he got back from Bobbie. Chris gathered him close, arms snug around his waist, and breathed the words, "well, I guess you can, but do realise that's pretty fucking gross." 

"I know," JC said, nipping at Chris's nose as they walked backward into the bathroom, barely stumbling, and Chris lifted him by the hips and plopped him down on the counter. JC kicked his legs against the cupboards while Chris rummaged through his overnight bag, extracting a blue toothbrush. 

Chris smiled as he brushed his teeth, white foam all over his mouth, and JC leaned over, kissing him on the scruffy cheek. Chris's free hand walked up JC's legs to cup his hip, a thumb rubbing gently at the smooth skin between his leg and groin. 

Chris spit and rinsed the brush, and JC took it between his fingers, eyeing it before letting Chris squirt a thick line of paste onto the bristles. Carefully, he put it into his mouth then started to scrub. Brushing his teeth was a secret pleasure. Chris's hand was still warm and heavy on his hip, and JC smiled at Chris widely, his cheek puffed up by the brush. 

When JC was done, he said, "thank you." 

"God knows we've shared enough bodily fluids," Chris said, grinning. 

JC tugged Chris in between his legs then leaned over to lick a bit of toothpaste from the corner of Chris's mouth. Chris smiled, the grin reaching his eyes, and JC smoothed a hand over his cheek, into his hair. It was greasy and thick, slippery between the pads of his fingers, and he rubbed Chris's scalp until he tilted his head back, contented noises escaping his lips. 

"You make me so happy," JC said before he could stop himself then looked down, pals sliding down to rest on Chris's shoulder, and Chris's hand folded over his wrist, squeezing. JC looked up, studying Chris's expression. "Chris. Before, when Bobbie said those things to me, I thought I would die. Inside, I could feel something break." 

"I was so worried about you," Chris confessed, "so fucking scared." 

JC nodded, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Chris's neck, burying his face in his neck. Chris's hands dug into his lower back, clinging, and JC sniffled in his ear. "I think I wasted twenty-four years of my life. I'm too old to do this, to tell everyone that I lied to them." 

"I think you honestly didn't know," Chris replied, stroking a hand up JC's back, burrowing in his hair, and JC pressed his lips to Chris's neck. "Me, Jayce, I knew. Lying only works if you know the truth. You're doing good, man." 

"When I tell my family, will you come with me? They love you already. I think they'll be happy to know we're doing this together," JC explained, and Chris nodded, pulling back and moving his hands to hold JC by the hips. "Does your mom know?" 

"She suggested maybe I was years ago," Chris said, shrugging, "but I told her I wasn't. I was, like, seventeen. I tell you, C, it's the last fucking thing you ever want to hear come out of your mom's mouth. ‘Chris, honey, I love you, you know that, and I want you to be happy. It's all right to be gay.' And I just fucking stared at her," Chris ducked his head and laughed, "then I started crying, man, it was terrible. I denied it, though." 

JC stroked his fingers through Chris's hair, rubbing his scalp with his fingertips, and laughed a little bit because it was funny now, years later, like things often were. Chris grinned, and JC kissed the corner of his smirk. "Why did you never say anything?" 

"I was already the old, fat, ugly, freaky, poor one, C, I didn't need to be the gay one, too. And my mom, man, I didn't want people spouting crap that I was queer because I was raised with four sisters by a mostly single mom. And, because I'm a fucking coward, man. I can talk all this shit to you, but I can't seem to say anything to anyone else," Chris finished quietly. 

"I don't think so," JC said, "I think you just cared more about others than you cared about yourself, like you cared enough about me to sleep with me even though you knew I was probably going to flip out and become far too attached to you, even though you were still playing straight and probably the last thing you wanted was for your confused band-mate to beg for sex. I appreciate it, you know, taking that chance." 

Chris grinned suddenly. "Dude, do keep in mind that I hadn't been offered dick in ages. I don't think I was being particularly noble when you offered. I think I was just desperate to be with a guy again, but hey, if we want to put the dashing gentleman spin on it, whatever." 

JC laughed, hands on Chris's face, and he kissed Chris, first quickly then not, slowing it down as Chris stopped smiling and stepped forward, hands circling JC's waist. "Okay," JC said, crossing his legs around Chris's hips, and Chris's hands slid under his ass, hoisting him up. "So, we have, like, six hours, right? Six. Hours." 

"Wanna play cards?" Chris asked, walking bowlegged to the bed then dumping JC onto it, sliding down next to him. Shaking his head, JC climbed over Chris, and Chris spread his legs easily without JC even having to ask. JC kissed at the vee of his thighs as Chris breathed, keeping quiet, and a hand came down to tangle in JC's hair. 

JC moved his mouth around, tasting skin that was Chris in all ways, and JC thought he could recognise Chris anywhere now, knew him that deeply. JC kissed his wrists and his rough elbows, nuzzled the knobs of his too-old knees, tongued his puckered belly button. With careful hands, he rolled Chris onto his side then settled behind him, breathing onto his neck. 

"I want to try this," JC said quietly, palming Chris's hip, and Chris glanced back, beaming. JC tipped his head but didn't bother to ask the reason for the smile, just reached into the bag on the night table. "Do you think we need a condom?" 

"It's okay to me if we don't," Chris replied, "but lube." 

"Of course," JC said, smiling as he pulled his hand back, the Astroglide clutched between his fingers. Nervous with a sudden idea, he mouthed Chris's neck then bared his teeth and bit, just firmly enough to sting. Chris straightened then chuckled, and JC looked over to see his hand waving encouragingly. "You sure? Some people freak out." 

"I freak out when people use my toothbrush," Chris replied, and JC tilted his head to hear him laugh, a low full-belly chuckle that sounded honest. "See. I'm making exceptions for you, Jayce. So, go ahead, and fuck me before I turn the tables, all right?" 

"Okay," JC said and rubbed his hand over Chris's thigh then over his hip, kissing his shoulder and his neck. Chris dipped his head forward, making soft sounds, and JC concentrated on the feel of him in his palm, against his mouth. JC curled his fingers into the vee of Chris's legs, where it was damp and hot, and stroked around his balls, careful because Chris was particularly sensitive there. JC was inspired by the muted reactions Chris gave, with them being so wildly unlike Chris usually was. 

JC touched the patch of skin behind Chris's balls then dragged his fingers through the hair he knew was dark like ebony and plentiful, leading the most delightful trail to Chris's bellybutton. Chris shifted his legs while JC felt around, blind but for the shadows of Chris's hair. Chris didn't make too much noise otherwise. Lightly, JC nipped at him, teeth scratching over salty skin. 

Chris cock was heavy against JC's roaming hand, thick and hard, and JC held it, folded his fingers around it and kept them there. It was so ruggedly masculine, this dick, so distinctly male and Chris, all at once. JC knew what it liked and dragged the pads of his fingers along the underside. Chris arched, toes curling against the tops of JC's feet. 

He stroked Chris's cock for a while, the loose skin moving easily between his fingers, and JC was reminded again that this was a man he was touching, and he noted the differences, that Chris was uncut, thicker, with less of a curve than himself. JC wanted to study Chris's dick, needed to know all its secrets. JC never took as much pleasure as he did when it was in him or in his mouth or in his fist. 

"What're you thinking about?" Chris asked suddenly, and JC laughed abruptly. 

"Um. Your dick, actually," JC replied, blushing and pressing his face into Chris's hair, embarrassed suddenly for the intensity of his thoughts. "It's nice, you know. It's very. Um. Like, it feels nice, and I like it. A lot. And yes." 

Chris laughed, shaking with it. "Oh, man, Jayce. You're something else." 

"I want to write poems about it," JC continued, unfazed with the gentle teasing, and he bit Chris's shoulder again, drawing a shudder from him. "Odes to the Kirkpatrick cock," JC added, jerking his wrist, loving how Chris's hips pushed forward, greedy for touch, "paint pictures of it. You'd let me, wouldn't you? You'd sit for me and let me paint you." 

"C, dude. You can do whatever you like," Chris said, and his breath hitched on his words. Over his shoulder, JC saw him running his hand over the bed sheets, fingers curled into them, scratching. JC moved his fist a little bit faster, tightening his grip, and Chris bucked, pushing back just as JC bit down again, deep. Chris cried out, a desperate sort of sound, and JC knew he was dangerously close. 

"Okay. Going in, Captain," JC mumbled in Chris's ear, smiling, and Chris laughed again, lifting his leg to let JC slick him up, applying a huge glob of lube. Sucking on Chris's earlobe, JC worked his fingers around, just touching at first before grazing the opening and slowly slipping inside, where it was tight and hot. 

"Oh," Chris breathed, and JC wondered why he always thought it was a surprise, that it felt good. Of course, Chris had been living as straight longer than JC had, and JC was pretty messed up about it. Maybe Chris had issues. JC decided to ask him about that later. 

"Okay, pull back, your leg. Like this," JC mumbled, hoping this wouldn't hurt, but he remembered this position from the badly-written gay erotica books he'd stolen from the local bookshop, when he ended up buying ten other so-called normal books to alleviate the guilt. 

Chris lifted his thigh and moved it back, and JC slid his hand around front, holding it there. Balanced on his hip and elbow, he nudged at Chris, trying to get in, and used his fingers to guide him. When the head popped past the ring of muscle, Chris exhaled sharply in something like relief, dropping his head further. 

It was the slow kind of fucking JC liked it, sliding in then pulling out, slick like oil in water and smooth, soft almost in the way Chris's ass rested against JC's lower belly. JC bit down on Chris's shoulder, trying to be careful, but it was hard to think, with all this fucking and Chris's soft moans that he tried to force into the pillow. JC didn't break skin, though, just bruised it, pressing hard into the flesh as he groaned, so deep in Chris's body. It was beautiful, JC thought, it was really, really beautiful to be inside him. 

"You can. More," Chris mumbled, and JC wasn't sure what he meant, so he fucked harder and bit deeper, piercing the flesh then licking at it, apologetic. Chris just shuddered hard and came all over the sheets. All the clenching and panting pushed JC over, and he felt something explode in him, his teeth sinking in one last time. JC could taste Chris in his mouth. 

"Oh, no," JC whispered, when he was finally aware of everything, his limp dick slipping out of Chris's ass, and Chris looked back at him, eyes glossy and dark. "Oh, Chris, I'm sorry. You shouldn't let me do that. It's not. Hold on." 

JC jumped out of bed, all sweaty and shiny, and he ran to the bathroom, rooting through Chris's overnight bag, which was filled with junk, and found a tube of antibiotic ointment. JC grabbed some toilet paper and the cream and walked back to the bed, sheepish. 

"I said it was okay," Chris said, pushed up on his elbows. 

"I know, but. I don't. I just. Turn over, okay?" JC asked, kneeling beside him, and Chris flipped onto his back, arms crossed in front of him. Squirting a blob of ointment on his fingers, JC rubbed it into the bite mark, stringy hair in his eyes. "I'm, um. I'm sorry." 

"I said it was okay," Chris repeated and sat up, eyes serious, and JC found himself nodding, though inwardly promising himself he wouldn't do it again. Even though Bobbie had dumped him for being gay, JC had lost three other girlfriends who didn't like the way he lost control. "No, C. Don't. Don't go back into yourself, okay? Stay out here, with me." 

"I'm sorry," JC said again, and he wasn't sure what he was even apologising for. Chris pinched him on the stomach and called him a loveable moron then kissed JC firm on the lips and said he was going to order a snack from room service. JC asked him to get him some toast and some juice then went to wash up while Chris called. When JC came back to him, they sat around for a few hours, talking and watching television. 

JC thought a bit about things but mostly avoided them. Chris lay over his lap, sprawled comfortably, and JC stroked over his back for as long as he could, until his fingertips got numb and tingly. Bobbie called at four, and JC made the arrangements, which he could see Chris writing down because JC wasn't going to be able to remember them in five minutes. Plans weren't lyrical enough to stay in his mind for very long. 

JC showered first then Chris, who took almost half an hour and sang at the top of his lungs. JC fixed his hair while smiling so big he could barely see, then he left Chris to warble happily while he searched through the box of clothes he got from Bobbie's, finding the most wonderful treasures that he'd almost forgotten he owned. 

JC dressed slowly, taking care to make sure everything went on right. His black thong, which was his favourite and which Bobbie had held for ransom long before they ever broke up, fit as wonderfully as he remembered, and his socks, which were boring and white, were still boring and white. All these things, JC thought, that he wore before, they hadn't changed. Everything else in JC's life had, though. 

The pants proved to be just as hard to get on as they ever were. JC tugged and pulled and grunted until the red leather slowly slid up his legs, and once they were on, he struggled to get them over his narrow hips. It took a bit more time to make sure the elastic of the thong stayed hidden and that his cock hung right, even though it looked huge already. 

The shirt, a shimmery black with red stripes across the shoulders and down his sleeves, was even tighter, and JC pressed at his nipples, trying to get them to stay down and hidden. With a sigh, he gave up and instead checked to make sure the lacing on the front of the pants was tight and secure, tying a tight knot. 

"Oh, fuck me," Chris said, coming out of the bathroom fully dressed, and JC turned to him, blushing. Chris fell to his knees and pressed his mouth to the swell of JC's dick, hands on JC's narrow hips, and JC didn't mind too much when the lacing was untied and Chris was sucking him deep into his mouth, being extremely loud about his enjoyment. 

JC watched with wide eyes as Chris licked him and took him into his mouth, swallowing him down. It was lewd and sexy and hot as hell. JC came much too quickly, his fingers in Chris's hair, and Chris looked up as he relaced the pants, patting JC's raw cock through the leather. "Do you have any idea how goddamn sexy you are?" 

JC smiled sweetly at him and shrugged, and Chris pushed to his feet, putting his mouth against JC's lips. JC licked at him, tasting the bitterness of himself on Chris's tongue, and Chris's hand fanned against his lower back, under the shirt. A finger dipped into the ass of JC's pants, rubbing at the top of the thong. JC grinned against his mouth. "You look good, too. My man," JC palmed Chris's chest, "looking good." 

"My man, looking even better," Chris replied, and they made out for a while, kissing slowly as JC pressed Chris back to the wall, holding him against it. Chris tickled him a bit, a scratch of fingers across JC's flat belly, and JC curled up on himself, laughing. When Chris dipped those same fingers below the edge of the red leather pants, into the cleft of his ass, JC stopped chuckling and shuddered hard, feeling it in his toes. 

"We have to stop," JC said, pulling back and fingering his bruised lips, licking at the moisture left on them from Chris's tongue, and Chris nodded. JC stepped back and breathed deeply while Chris ran one hand down his thigh before going to put on his shoes. 

JC looked at himself in the mirror, hand still at his mouth, and he smiled crookedly, eyes shifting down his own lithe body. He looked good, JC suddenly realised, Chris wasn't lying, and he felt good. His skin was practically shimmering with happiness. "I'm happy," JC whispered. 

"Me too," Chris said and kissed JC's temple softly. "You ready to go, hot stuff?" 

JC nodded and gave Chris his ID and his money, and Chris tucked everything into the back of his black jeans. JC reached for the silver balls of Chris's necklace and fiddled with them while Chris reached for the light. When Chris's hand came back, it settled against JC's hip, warm even through the red leather, and Chris kissed him lightly, sweetly. It was electric anyway. 

There was always something about Chris that made JC shiver all over. 

JC suspected he knew what it was; he just wasn't going to say it yet. 

Fin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Archived from ExperimentV


End file.
